Lucky has been in Chicago for eight months, and he accepted the fact that he would never see anyone from Port Charles again. He should know by now that when the Rift is involved, he should never say never
( ... )
The last person on earth he expects to find is Lucky.
Not that he expected to find himself with anyone from Port Charles, since he was told quite bluntly he couldn't go back home and he shouldn't expect to see his family again. Sometimes, Wanderers are met with good people that will try to be helpful. Other times, they'll be met with people who are disdainful of Wanderers and will paint the truth the blackest as it can be.
Welcome to Chicago, asshole. You can't ever go back home, simple as that.
Nikolas almost believes he's hearing things.
Aside from the fact he didn't expect to find Lucky here, he didn't expect Lucky to be... happy to see him
( ... )
She doens't come to the park often enough, not anymore anyway. She used to hang around here on a regular basis but then she started patrolling and she only came to make sure there was nothing going on.
But now here she is, wandering through Grant Park with nothing to do and it's nice, it reminds her of days gone by, days where she wasn't always on guard and just a little bit angry.
The young man catches her eye in his suit and the way he stands out. She arches a brow but doesn't approach not at first. She just watches him from several feet away, studying him, wondering just what he may be.
He feels human but she's been wrong before.
She approaches casually, sitting on the other end of the bench and smiling to him just a little. He seems lost and she's drawn to those types, too the ones who are displaced, who don't quite belong.
In Chicago, that means she can find a little something interesting in most people though.
His nerves are all shot and his guard is up, more so than usual. Everything he's just been told is compartmentalized and held at bay, for now, while he figures out what to do next.
Nikolas has no idea what to do next.
Or rather, he does, but he does not want to live in this Tower they speak of. He finally turns to meet Aurora's gaze, wondering what it is she's studying with such curiosity. Lost does not begin to describe Nikolas Cassadine.
"... Are you native to Chicago?" he asks cautiously. While he may be skeptical about what he has been told, he isn't going to dismiss it when confronted with the possibility.
If this is really happening, if he is really a Wanderer, then there are people that hate his kind and should not know what he is.
Though they'd know anyway, and that's also infuriating.
Luckily for him, she means him no harm. Not at the moment anyway. he's done nothing to anger her and she'd be a hypocrite if Wanderers bothered her.
"No," she says with a smile and as a gesture of honour, she unfurls her wo9ngs, big tawny owls wings instead of her moths wings instead. "I'm a traveller here, much like you, I suspect."
He's just got that Wanderer air about him, that look of loss and co9nfusion and disbelief all rolled up into 9one. She's become so good at spotting i8t, targeting it and, when she thinks it might be of interest, using it to her advantage.
Nikolas is immediately drawn to the wings. "Shouldn't you be more cautious about who you show them to?" he asks, unable to keep his gaze off of them. He's heard all sorts of cautionary tales about what happens to people that are different here.
While he has no idea who she is, he certainly doesn't want any harm to come to her because of those wings. He's still too stunned by everything to even react to the fact she has wings.
There's a part of him that will always want to play the part of the gallant prince.
"If you're speaking of the Tower, I have, but I'm not one quick to believe what everyone tells me," he says, and he doesn't meant to be rude, but he won't hastily believe what he's been told.
He needs time to digest it, figure out what he does believe and what he does not.
This is a hundred years late. TRIN DOESN'T CARE. SHE'S A DEMON. THAT'S ONLY FASHIONABLY LATE FOR HERomnomnomfaceJuly 23 2011, 02:38:35 UTC
Trin's just dancing along the path in the Park. Y'know. Like you do. Her eyes are closed and she's moving to music no one can hear, and even if they can hear her tuneless humming, they wouldn't know the song.
It's pretty obvious where this is going. Trin's not very coordinated with her eyes open, much less with them closed. Her legs find the bench Nikolas is sitting on, and her body finds Nikolas's body and her head finds his lap.
She opens her eyes and stares up at him. And then continues singing "THE HIIIIIIIIIIILS ARE ALIIIIIVE."
I LOVE ALL YOUR TAGS, ESP WHEN THEY ARE FASHIONABLY LATE. <3onethingonlyJuly 24 2011, 01:29:55 UTC
This is the last thing Nikolas expects to find.
His mind is already conjuring up plenty of circumstances in which he can find himself in. Most of them pertain to monsters and being sucked in by another vortex caused through breaks in space and time.
He does not expect a blonde's head suddenly in his lap. And it is singing. Why is it singing?
“WITH THE SOUND OF MUUUUUUUUSIC,” Trin finishes the phrase. There’s a long pause where she looks up into Nikolas’s face, studying it, no real expression except one of pure innocence on her face. She blinks once, twice.
And then she opens her mouth.
“WITH SONGS THEY HAVE SUNG FOR A THOUSAND YEAAAAAAAAAAARS.”
He must know the tune. He must. Maybe this will become a duet!
...It is entirely possible that she’s totally drunk. Actually, the possibility is pretty high at this stage, pushing more and more into the ‘likely’ category. It was just an afternoon sloshfest!, she’ll later protest. It was fine, she was vaguely tipsy and then very tipsy and she dueted with a stranger while laying in his lap!
If he knows the words.
Come on, Nikolas. Next line. “THE HILLS FILL MY HEAAART...”
Oh, God. He has no idea what to do with this person.
Nikolas stares back at her. His expression doesn't exactly hold innocence, so much as utter bewilderment.
He does know the tune, actually.
It was his mother's favorite movie, but this is not what he expected. And while he can likely smell the alcohol on her breath, it's hardly proper to point this out to her. Nikolas is big on manners, Trinity.
He just also doesn't know how to react here.
"Excuse me," he says, and he moves slightly to the side while helping her, or attempting to help her, into an upright position. "Are... you all right?"
If there's something that Sophie never fails to miss, it's the sight of an impeccable suit.
She made her living conning men in impeccable suits. She's not supposed to be doing it anymore, not unless they're the devil incarnate (and really, there are more of those than you would think) but it doesn't necessarily mean she can turn off her ability to notice when they happen to be in the vicinity.
And really, it's a very nice suit.
Add to the fact that the man in question looks a little lost, she feels that she should go over and have a conversation with the man in the nice suit. It's only fair, after all. He might need some help.
Sophie's very good with helping.
"City turn you around?" she says as she makes her way closer, sliding her hands into her pockets as she walks.
Nikolas will appreciate any help Sophia can give him, as reluctant as he may be at first to accept it.
It isn't as if he has been left with much of a choice.
He's still trying to wrap his brain around the fact he won't see his son again, won't see the birth of his other son. Won't see his family, though that's one stretch of a word to call it, won't see the town he's grown used to.
Nikolas brings himself to his feet, smoothing the front lapel of his suit, giving her a slight smile that's more propriety than anything else. "In a manner of speaking," he allows, cautious to say too much and not enough.
The more people he talks to, the more information he can gather.
"Well, everyone who falls through the Rift tends to develop a certain look about them," she says with a sigh as she moves closer. "It's not exactly something one can prepare themselves for."
Which is the truth, really. Unless you were raised in this universe, it's highly unlikely that your parents taught you the hows and whats of falling through a tear in time and space.
Once she's close enough, she extends a hand. Names are important, after all. "Sophie Devereaux."
Nikolas appreciates, in a way, she just comes right out and says it. There's a small, tightening sensation in his chest that he fully ignores. "There's a very real part of me that's still trying to digest everything I was just told. I'm not sure it will sink in any time soon."
He's not sure if it will sink in today at all. There's that slightly dazed feeling, like he may be walking through a dream.
"Nikolas Cassadine, it's a pleasure to meet you," he says, taking her hand and covering it with both of his.
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Not that he expected to find himself with anyone from Port Charles, since he was told quite bluntly he couldn't go back home and he shouldn't expect to see his family again. Sometimes, Wanderers are met with good people that will try to be helpful. Other times, they'll be met with people who are disdainful of Wanderers and will paint the truth the blackest as it can be.
Welcome to Chicago, asshole. You can't ever go back home, simple as that.
Nikolas almost believes he's hearing things.
Aside from the fact he didn't expect to find Lucky here, he didn't expect Lucky to be... happy to see him ( ... )
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But now here she is, wandering through Grant Park with nothing to do and it's nice, it reminds her of days gone by, days where she wasn't always on guard and just a little bit angry.
The young man catches her eye in his suit and the way he stands out. She arches a brow but doesn't approach not at first. She just watches him from several feet away, studying him, wondering just what he may be.
He feels human but she's been wrong before.
She approaches casually, sitting on the other end of the bench and smiling to him just a little. He seems lost and she's drawn to those types, too the ones who are displaced, who don't quite belong.
In Chicago, that means she can find a little something interesting in most people though.
Reply
His nerves are all shot and his guard is up, more so than usual. Everything he's just been told is compartmentalized and held at bay, for now, while he figures out what to do next.
Nikolas has no idea what to do next.
Or rather, he does, but he does not want to live in this Tower they speak of. He finally turns to meet Aurora's gaze, wondering what it is she's studying with such curiosity. Lost does not begin to describe Nikolas Cassadine.
"... Are you native to Chicago?" he asks cautiously. While he may be skeptical about what he has been told, he isn't going to dismiss it when confronted with the possibility.
If this is really happening, if he is really a Wanderer, then there are people that hate his kind and should not know what he is.
Though they'd know anyway, and that's also infuriating.
Reply
"No," she says with a smile and as a gesture of honour, she unfurls her wo9ngs, big tawny owls wings instead of her moths wings instead. "I'm a traveller here, much like you, I suspect."
He's just got that Wanderer air about him, that look of loss and co9nfusion and disbelief all rolled up into 9one. She's become so good at spotting i8t, targeting it and, when she thinks it might be of interest, using it to her advantage.
"Have you been told about the place you can go?"
Reply
While he has no idea who she is, he certainly doesn't want any harm to come to her because of those wings. He's still too stunned by everything to even react to the fact she has wings.
There's a part of him that will always want to play the part of the gallant prince.
"If you're speaking of the Tower, I have, but I'm not one quick to believe what everyone tells me," he says, and he doesn't meant to be rude, but he won't hastily believe what he's been told.
He needs time to digest it, figure out what he does believe and what he does not.
Reply
It's pretty obvious where this is going. Trin's not very coordinated with her eyes open, much less with them closed. Her legs find the bench Nikolas is sitting on, and her body finds Nikolas's body and her head finds his lap.
She opens her eyes and stares up at him. And then continues singing "THE HIIIIIIIIIIILS ARE ALIIIIIVE."
Yeah. That was the song she was dancing to.
Hi, Nikolas.
Reply
His mind is already conjuring up plenty of circumstances in which he can find himself in. Most of them pertain to monsters and being sucked in by another vortex caused through breaks in space and time.
He does not expect a blonde's head suddenly in his lap. And it is singing. Why is it singing?
"I... beg your pardon?"
Yes, he is very formal-like. He is a prince!
Reply
And then she opens her mouth.
“WITH SONGS THEY HAVE SUNG FOR A THOUSAND YEAAAAAAAAAAARS.”
He must know the tune. He must. Maybe this will become a duet!
...It is entirely possible that she’s totally drunk. Actually, the possibility is pretty high at this stage, pushing more and more into the ‘likely’ category. It was just an afternoon sloshfest!, she’ll later protest. It was fine, she was vaguely tipsy and then very tipsy and she dueted with a stranger while laying in his lap!
If he knows the words.
Come on, Nikolas. Next line. “THE HILLS FILL MY HEAAART...”
Reply
Nikolas stares back at her. His expression doesn't exactly hold innocence, so much as utter bewilderment.
He does know the tune, actually.
It was his mother's favorite movie, but this is not what he expected. And while he can likely smell the alcohol on her breath, it's hardly proper to point this out to her. Nikolas is big on manners, Trinity.
He just also doesn't know how to react here.
"Excuse me," he says, and he moves slightly to the side while helping her, or attempting to help her, into an upright position. "Are... you all right?"
Reply
She made her living conning men in impeccable suits. She's not supposed to be doing it anymore, not unless they're the devil incarnate (and really, there are more of those than you would think) but it doesn't necessarily mean she can turn off her ability to notice when they happen to be in the vicinity.
And really, it's a very nice suit.
Add to the fact that the man in question looks a little lost, she feels that she should go over and have a conversation with the man in the nice suit. It's only fair, after all. He might need some help.
Sophie's very good with helping.
"City turn you around?" she says as she makes her way closer, sliding her hands into her pockets as she walks.
Reply
It isn't as if he has been left with much of a choice.
He's still trying to wrap his brain around the fact he won't see his son again, won't see the birth of his other son. Won't see his family, though that's one stretch of a word to call it, won't see the town he's grown used to.
Nikolas brings himself to his feet, smoothing the front lapel of his suit, giving her a slight smile that's more propriety than anything else. "In a manner of speaking," he allows, cautious to say too much and not enough.
The more people he talks to, the more information he can gather.
"Am I that transparent?"
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Which is the truth, really. Unless you were raised in this universe, it's highly unlikely that your parents taught you the hows and whats of falling through a tear in time and space.
Once she's close enough, she extends a hand. Names are important, after all. "Sophie Devereaux."
Reply
He's not sure if it will sink in today at all. There's that slightly dazed feeling, like he may be walking through a dream.
"Nikolas Cassadine, it's a pleasure to meet you," he says, taking her hand and covering it with both of his.
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